


The Snake In The Grass, At The Very End

by ServantOfMischief



Series: The Journey To Home [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Character Death, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Farewells, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), I don't know how to tag through my tears, Love Letters, M/M, Second epilogue, Shapeshifter Crowley (Good Omens), soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ServantOfMischief/pseuds/ServantOfMischief
Summary: Crowley knew it would happen, he knew it would come and there was no way to stop it.It doesn't make it hurt any less.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Journey To Home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746790
Comments: 28
Kudos: 144





	The Snake In The Grass, At The Very End

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has been stuck in my head for months and I tried NOT to write it, but it just wouldn't go away. Some readers also asked if Aziraphale would remain mortal, and I figured I may not have given you a proper ending. So here you have it. Before you read this, please read The Snake In The Grass first, for context. 
> 
> Please check the tags before reading.
> 
> Songs I listened to while writing this:  
> Fix You - Coldplay  
> Poison & Wine - The Civil Wars
> 
> And yes, I do regret everything

It’s not like Crowley has been blissfully unaware of the differences between humans and shapeshifters. He’s never had any reason to think much about these differences, because he’s never been particularly close to any human, that’s all. Now he has a human lover, and while for many years he _did_ ignore one particular difference, at some point he realizes he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Aziraphale’s hair has always been so light blonde that it could be mistaken for white. Now, it’s grey, every last strand, and it’s made everything painfully clear.

He will longer than the love of his life.

Even now, in full on snakeform and wrapped around Aziraphale to give support to his now much frailer body, and to just be as close as possible, the shapeshifter can’t help but just watch, to take in the sight of the peaceful expression on his face. Even now, with wrinkles and darkened hair and unsteady feet, Aziraphale is just as gorgeous as he’s always been. Even age cannot detract from Aziraphale’s glow. Perhaps there is something to that saying he heard many, many years ago: Those that are able to age are beautiful.

“You’re staring again.” Aziraphale turns to look at the snake, a hand reaching out to gently pet the snake’s head. Crowley enjoys the gentle touch, remembers briefly a time when he didn’t trust this man, until he realizes he craved these comforting gestures.

“Can’t help it.” He says. “You’re ssssso beautiful.” Aziraphale chuckles and shakes his head in fond exasperation.

“You wily serpent.” He says, and Aziraphale says it with so much love, Crowley nearly shudders with it. He tightens his coils as much as he dares, nuzzling into his lover’s hand. He may not have this for much longer, and the thought pains him, but he’s going to enjoy it for as long as he can. Not a single moment will be wasted.

“You’re worrying about something.” The human says, and Crowley’s tongue flickers out. So perceptive, his angel, and while Crowley would normally tell Aziraphale what’s on his mind, he doesn’t want to bring up this subject. Aziraphale must have thought about it once or twice himself, and Crowley doesn’t want to dampen the mood, ruin the moment they have.

“Nothing of importance right now.” He lies. Because it is important now, because who knows how long they have. Aziraphale doesn’t look like he believes him, but thankfully he lets the matter drop.

“I see. Can I ask for a kiss then, dearest?” Crowley shifts his upper body into that of a human and cradles Aziraphale’s face in his hands, pecking him lightly on the lips. Aziraphale smiles and traces Crowley’s face. The passage of time has left its mark on Crowley as well, just not as much as it has on Aziraphale. While Aziraphale is now a wrinkly old man who gets tired easily, Crowley has crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes, barely there lines around his mouth and a few streaks of grey in his still vibrant red hair.

He is so beautiful, and Aziraphale finds himself still so thankful that such an amazing man can love him, and has devoted himself to him for such a long time, even now, when Aziraphale is an old man nearing the end of his time. And that is it, isn’t it? Why Crowley has been so close to him, more clingy than usual, these last few months?

“Time, hm?” Crowley flinches, knowing he’s been caught, and bites his lower lip so hard he nearly tears through the skin with his fangs.

“Oh my dear, come here.” With a bit of manoeuvring, Crowley ends up being held comfortingly by his lover in his lap. “You must have known all this time that I would end up leaving this world before you. It must have been so hard for you, all these years.” Aziraphale whispers as he cars his hand through long copper hair.

“I’ve tried not to think about it.” Crowley admits quietly, drawing comfort from the gesture. He has tried not to, but now he can’t avoid the fact any longer. Time has been his enemy since the beginning.

“But you do now.” Aziraphale says, as if he read his lover’s mind.

“I do now.” They sit like this in silence for quite a while, neither knowing what to say nor wanting to break the comfortable quiet that has settled just yet. Aziraphale is the one braving the waters in the end.

“This is an inescapable fact, love. I will die before you, but instead of dreading that moment and waiting for it, why don’t you do me one favour?”

“Anything for you, angel.” Crowley is quick to agree, anything that will make him happy, anything for his angel. Crowley would pull the stars down from the night sky for Aziraphale if he had possessed such power.

“The rest of our days together, however many or few we have left, why don’t we enjoy them to the best of our abilities? Let us just be, you and me, Babylon, Bada and Tonya are here with us as well. Let us enjoy our days as a family.”

“I can do that.” Crowley sniffs, pressing kisses to Aziraphale’s face, and the other man giggles at the affection showered upon him.

“You seem to have got the hang of it.”

“I’ve loved you for decades, angel. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

“And I mine.” Now Aziraphale is the one who appears heartbroken, knowing that after he’s passed, Crowley will live on. His love will live on for many more years, decades, centuries? He was already several centuries old when they first met and he barely look any different now, several decades later.

“Aziraphale-“

“No, no, I’m alright. One more promise, please?” Crowley nods, and Aziraphale tells him the shapeshifter’s face twists in agony, wanting to argue, wanting to refuse. He doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want to be asked, pleaded, for something like this, but he can’t say no, it would break Aziraphale’s heart if he does. So he agrees. And it’s almost worth it with the way Aziraphale beams at him, like he is the sun.

Their days pass peacefully, with Babylon and Bada leaving the two mostly alone during the day, and only interacting with them during meals and before they retire for the evenings. Aziraphale asked Babylon about it one evening.

“I’ve had my time with you, my dear friend.” She tells him, smiling fondly. “For me, I’d be grateful if you and my brother can spend your time together until your hearts are content.” It’s a goodbye, it’s Babylon’s goodbye to Aziraphale, and a testament to how much she cares about them both. He thanks her, eyes just as wet as hers as she hugs him.

Crowley tends to his garden during the days, harvesting herbs for Wensleydale, who is now the village healer after having been Aziraphale’s apprentice for many, many years. The older blonde had delighted in the task of teaching the young man the art of healing, but now that it’s over and he’s grown much older, he sticks with reading and writing. He has been writing letters, of some sort through the last decade, thought he never sends them and he won’t let Crowley know what it is that he is writing down. This peeved the shapeshifter at some point, until Aziraphale told him that once he was done with all the letters, Crowley will be allowed to read them.

And then, one evening with Crowley lying beside him, Aziraphale sighs and appear both tired and satisfied.

“Hm?” Crowley pulls himself up to try and look over Azirpahale’s shoulder. “What it is?” Aziraphale smiles at him and reaches out, one wrinkled hand cupping Crowley’s cheek.

“I’ve finished.”

“Oh, can I read them now?” The redhead asks but Aziraphale shakes his head.

“It’s late right now. Tomorrow, my love, I promise.” He says, and they get ready for bed. In the dark, after all candles have been blown out they huddle close beneath the furs, Aziraphale tucking his head beneath Crowley’s chin as he whispers the words they share every night, as if it would be the final night. Crowley returns them. The next morning Crowley is the first to awaken in the entire cave, and he looks down at the love of his life, so peaceful against him and tightens his hold as he thinks of all the years he will have to live without this man.

He releases a sob into grey curls.

* * *

Babylon wakes to the sense of something unnatural, yet so natural. She blinks her eyes open and sits up, completely still for several heartbeats before she exhales shakily, closing her eyes, before she shakes Bada and Tonya awake.

“Mam?” Tonya slurs, mind still foggy with sleep refusing to relinquish her just yet.

“What’s wrong?” Bada wipes his eyes as she stands up.

“Can you feel it?” Babylon asks instead. Bada and Tonya both seem confused for a moment, trying to sense what it is Babylon is talking about, and shivers.

“The day has come.” Babylon says quietly and turns around, leaving their little den to head over to Crowley and Aziraphale’s part of the cave. She hears it well before she’s there, and stands in the opening of their den, watching her brother cradle Aziraphale’s limp body to himself, sobbing quietly into the other man’s curls, rocking back and forth, hands not quite able to stay still, moving, as if searching for a part of the human that can tell him that this isn’t true, that he isn’t….

Gone.

Bada and Tonya catch up, and the youngest shapeshifter covers her mouth to keep her own sobs from being heard, and Babylon holds up a hand to signal the other two to wait as she slowly, carefully, moves forward, kneeling down not too far from the two on the ground.

“Brother.” She says in hushed tones so as not to startle him and the crying stops as the other shapeshifter looks up, eyes more yellow than anything else. Babylon feels her expression shift, and holds out a hand for him to either reject or accept. Long fingers wrap around hers without an ounce of hesitance and she slides over to him, one arm wrapping around him, the other around Aziraphale. That’s the signal for the other two to join as well, and they wrap around Crowley and Aziraphale to give as much comfort as they can. No words are needed here, none will make anyone feel better. Instead they mourn together.

Crowley’s mournful cry can be heard all the way down to the village.

* * *

They bury him beneath the apple tree. He loved to sit there and read, so that is where it feels the most fitting to give him rest. Crowley doesn’t leave the den for weeks on end afterwards, which worries the other three, but they cannot quite find it in themselves to bring him out, because none of them have the words. Babylon finally braves the waters one day. She doesn’t have any words, but she hopes she can coax him out into the sunlight for even just a little while. She finds him hunched over some paper on the floor, the heels of his hands buried into his eyes as his whole body shakes, and she hurries over.

“Anthony-“

“They were for me.”

“What were?” She asks him, pulling him back to her and he gestures for the paper on the ground. His eyes are swollen, red-rimmed and resembling more of a snake than anything human.

“Aziraphale’s letters. They’re for me.” And she understands without him having to explain it any further. Aziraphale had been preparing for these days long before any of them ever thought to do so, to make sure that even if he was not with them, a part of him would always be with Crowley no matter what. Babylon sucks in a breath, exhaling it in a shaky laugh, prompting just the barest of upward tugs of Crowley’s lips.

“Would you… Would you read to me? Can I listen?” He sniffs, breathes in deep before nodding, leaning forward to look through the letters until he finds one specific one.

“This was t-the first o-one.” He breathes in deep again to attempt at calming himself down, but his voice cracks even as he begins reading.

_My dearest Crowley_

_There are no words in any language that can ever properly convey how much I love you, there are no words that can do my feelings for you justice, and I will love you until the end of my days. My end will come before yours, and it pains me to know this, to know that you will live on, not burdened with your love for me, but perhaps in a way shackled with it. I will, before it ends, make sure you do not feel any obligation for me after my passing, for all I wish for is for you to be happy-_

Crowley breaks out into tears again, and Babylon clings to him as much as he clings to her, both just trying to hold themselves from shattering.

_I had never truly believed in destined love, especially not for me, but I cannot imagine myself loving anyone but you, no matter what kind of life I had led, or will lead. You are my constant, and I believe now, that I won’t love you only in this life we had together, but also in any other life we will lead. I believe we will meet again, in a new life, and I know it from the bottom of my very heart and soul that I will find you again, my love. No matter where or when we end up next, nor who we end up as next, I will find you, and I will fall in love with you all over again and again and again. You are my star-crossed lover, Crowley, and I will not rest until I see you again, in our next life. And we will have many, and they will all be what we wish for with our both our hearts._

_You have my heart, and it only belongs to you, no matter who or what we will be. I am forever yours._

_Your beloved,_

_Aziraphale_


End file.
